Under The Surface
by Sybl Angelkat
Summary: We saw the Hessian snatch Mary Van Tassel up and disappear through the Gateway with her, but what becomes of them afterward? Mary/Hessian. I had yet to see a story addressing this. MaryxHessian.
1. Chapter 1

**Under the Surface.**

We saw the Hessian snatch Mary Van Tassel up and disappear through the Gateway with her, but what becomes of them afterward? Mary/Hessian. I had yet to see a story addressing this.

The first thing that floated to the surface of her consciousness was anger. How dare that little rat Masbeth whack her in the head with something? Then, there was the intense pain throbbing through the back of her scull. She groaned slightly, rubbing her face. Looking around, she realized that she was too high off the ground to be laying in the bed of dead leaves.

Uh-oh.

Her gaze suddenly locked with a pair of electric blue eyes and her blood froze in her veins.

_The Hessian!_

It chilled her all the way through. She had gotten so used to seeing him without his head; she had gotten so used to being spared from looking into those icy eyes.

He smiled coldly, the pale lips spreading to reveal the savage animal-like pointed teeth. His face was rapidly descending on hers. She tried to pull away, but her scream of disgust was swallowed up by his mouth. Those razor-sharp teeth broke through her own smooth lips and blood gushed forth. She felt his tongue lap away some of the blood, savoring the salty metallic taste of it.

"YAH!" he yelled, spurring the ghostly horse forward. The roots of the tree spread open to admit them. Ichabod, Katrina, and Jonathan watched as they disappeared through the gateway.

Of course she fought him. Squirming violently, she tried to reach back through the gateway only to have her hand caught in the tree bark. She was nearly jarred out of the Hessian's grasp. Daredevil stopped suddenly and one thick arm slammed into her stomach, pulling her back into his lap. The Hessian's large hand closed over her small, slender wrist and yanked it loose. She was not without injury, however. The edges of tree bark had lacerated her hand badly and blood began to flow. She shuddered when she felt his breath become ragged. Was he getting _aroused_ by this? Disgusting…

It was dark, so she could hardly see. She guessed they were descending into an underground tunnel. The further down they got, the more she could see a red glow up ahead. Frightened, she noticed that the glow was caused by flames.

"YAH!" The Hessian shouted again. Daredevil burst through the flames, seeming to have no ill effects. Mary cringed away from the wave of blistering heat, then cringed away from the black leather armor. She hadn't meant to, but she'd actually pressed her face into his chest. He seemed to be paying no mind to her at the moment. His unusually bright blue eyes were looking into the distance at something. Curiosity temporarily overcame fear and she turned to look as well.

What appeared to be a castle wall loomed up ahead. The gate was dark and ominous. They were still bathed in red light. The heavy metal gate groaned and lurched its way up as if someone from the inside were cranking it. Mary nearly jumped out of her skin as it slammed shut behind them. Neither Daredevil nor the Hessian reacted; they must have been used to it by now.

Daredevil walked down the long stone hallway, the clopping of his hooves echoing eerily. They emerged in a dimly lit stable area. An eerie dragon-like creature emerged from the shadows. Mary screamed at its sudden appearance, but it only sneered, breathing steam from its nostrils.

"I've heard a lot about you, my lady," it hissed, "so nice of you to join ussss."

She let out a startled shriek as the Hessian shifted her around and lowered her to the stone floor. He said something in German to the strange creature and it seized her around the waist.

"Let me go, you revolting lizard!" she snarled.

"Wish I could," his hissing voice said in her ear, "but my friend saysss that I am to hold onto you. We can't have you getting loosssssse, now can we?"

She had to endure the creature's cold, clammy touch until the Hessian had removed the saddle and bridle from his ghostly horse. Content to have his saddle off, the horse casually sauntered into his stall. The Hessian said something else, not a word of which Mary understood. The dragon-thing released her and she pulled away from him, brushing off her dress.

"The two of you have no manners or concern for others!" she growled. The Hessian and the dragon glanced at each other and laughed. She was vaguely surprised when the Hessian finally addressed her directly.

"It would seem, _Frau_, that you have it backwards."

She stared at him, eyes burning with fury. He seemed to enjoy her anger.

"She might like living here in Hell," commented the dragon creature, "she hassss the personality. I don't suppose you've told her of the arrangement yet?"

"No. We only just arrived," the Hessian informed him, "you are dismissed, Flamebreath. Make sure that your little "friends" keep away from my house. I would hate to have to slice their heads off again."

"I will tell them," Flamebreath said, sounding slightly disappointed. He slithered away, leaving the two of them standing there.

"Come with me," the Hessian said, walking towards the door.

"What makes you think I'm going ANYWHERE with you?" Mary snapped.

The Hessian turned back towards her.

"Flamebreath will come back eventually," he informed her, "and he has a fondness for human women. His friends do as well…they don't mind sharing you if they get their claws on you."

With a shudder, she stumbled after him. After trying to navigate a hallway that had very little light, she had gotten used to following the tinkling sound of his spurs. The sound of a lock clicking followed by the rusty creak of a door filled the hallway with light. He let her in first, then closed the door behind him. It appeared that they were in some sort of kitchen. He motioned to a chair nearby.

"Sit."

Grudgingly, she did as she was asked.

"I want to go home NOW!" she snarled. She was surprised when a gloved finger paused her lips.

"You are finished giving me orders," he said firmly, "now it is my turn. You cost me my life. You cost me my family. You cost me everything. I was Hell-bound even before you came along, but that does not matter. I missed the birth of my son because of you. In a moment of selfishness, you took what was not yours to take. I know of the deal you made with Lucifer. You cannot go home. If you do, they will hang you and you will be trapped here just the same—it is useless. I am saving you the trip."

"If I can't go home, what then?"

She had a feeling she was not going to like the answer.

"You will stay here. Since you deprived me of so many things, you will pay your debt back to me and I might let you go afterwards. You have two choices, Frau. Consider carefully."

Seeing that she wasn't interrupting, he continued.

"Option number one—you can try to run away and get captured and tortured by the many, many demons that live here. I wouldn't recommend that one; they're very creative and very vicious. You won't die, but you will beg them to kill you before long. Your other choice is that you can marry me and be my wife."

She stared at him in shock. Some of her blood still lingered on his lips. His tongue slid over the dried blood. He was enjoying her discomfort entirely too much.

"You mean I would have to…" she trailed off.

"That is part of it."

She wanted to smack her forehead.

_And I thought being married to Baltus was a nightmare…I'm sure it's nothing compared to this. This is Hell after all…_

"Would I still be alive after this?" she asked.

"You will have aged some, but yes, you will live," he told her.

"How long do you intend to keep me here?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"As long as I want you."

She sighed. Ten years? Twenty? Fifty? It appeared that he wasn't going to tell her anytime soon.

"Fine. I'll do it. But don't expect me to fall in love with you or anything."

He chuckled.

"The idea of you loving anyone is laughable. I won't."

She folded her hands in her lap, wondering just how much control over her own life she had signed away.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There was a knock at the door. Without hesitation, the Hessian opened the door. A black-hooded figure stood as weightless as a shadow there. It held a scroll in one of its rotten corpse-like hands.

"What in God's name is that?" Mary asked, retreating from the creature's putrid smell.

"A messenger," the Hessian responded, "from Lucifer himself. Go and get two coins out of the jar in the kitchen."

Mary did as she was asked only because she wanted the horrid creature to go away. She was surprised when the coins burned her palms at the slightest contact. They glowed red hot like coals when she touched them. She touched them as little as she could. She was surprised when the creature eagerly snatched them out of her hands, leaving a trail of slime on her fingers. She gagged and ran away.

"You must excuse her," the Hessian said in German, "she is unaccustomed to our world.

The creature spoke in a strange language that Mary had neither heard nor could describe. It almost sounded like a sequence of breaths. With each exhale, steam would emerge from the thing's hood. For a split second, she could see glowing golden eyes reflecting from the shadowy darkness.

"Mary," the Hessian snapped crisply. He motioned her toward him. She still held the towel in her hand that she'd been attempting to scrub the slime away with.

"We must follow him. Stay close to me or risk getting attacked."

She did as he told her. They moved out of the house and down a steep and narrow path. The sky itself was black, but glowing red and orange clouds flashed across it. Ominous lightning stabbed through them. Occasionally, a funnel of fire would descend, tear up something, and suck back into the clouds in a matter of seconds. More creatures of all shapes and sizes milled around. Many of the human souls that she saw looked like rotting corpses. She could tell how a few of them had died very easily. Many of the males looked up at her and sneered. Upon seeing the Hessian's hand grasp the hilt of his sword, however, they turned away. They appeared to fear him immensely. She wondered what had happened down here…

"They smell your blood" he whispered, "they know you are still alive. Most of them will drink it if they catch you."

His demonic smile made her cringe and grimace.

Up ahead, the creepiest looking church she had ever seen loomed. It was almost an anti-church—the building was as black as coal. The tone of the bell ringing was deep and longing like a hunger not satisfied. The windows glowed brightly with grotesque images of Jesus being tortured. If the images themselves had not been so macabre, she would have admired the handiwork of the artist. The messenger led them up the stone stairs and inside.

Inside the church was far worse than the outside. There were people having sex in the pews, getting into fights with each other, and doing other unthinkable things. It was only then that Mary realized there were holes in the roof that allowed occasional jets of lightning to come in. The man who appeared to be the preacher wore black robes, but his skin was a sickly green color and his eyes seemed to protrude slightly from his skull. She noticed that the few congregation members that were sitting still wore black blindfolds and were the same sickly green shade as he was.

"Ah…Jaegar. Back from your little curse, are you? And who is this delicious little tart?" he asked mockingly.

Mary was too busy being surprised that the Hessian had a name. She was so used to hearing him referred to as "the Hessian", "the headless horseman", or "the German" that she'd forgotten he'd had a name. Of course he had a name…common sense should have told her that.

"This is Mary. We are to be married at once," Jaegar told him.

The preacher ventured closer to Mary. He sniffed at the air around her and smiled.

"Mmmm….treachery…murder…greed…oh, and what have we here? Lust…"

He licked his lips and Mary shuddered.

_Funny, back at home, this would have been great…having all these people attracted to me. Of course I don't want it here; this is Hell._

"Well, now, let me see…there are a few preparations we have to make. First, we need proper clothing for her."

The preacher waved his hand and Mary's dress turned into a black wedding dress. The black lace cascaded out like a solid sheet of cobwebs.

"And there's the matter of rings…I know just the perfect ones!"

He reached into a box hidden behind the pulpit and retrieved two rings. They were black with glowing orange stones. Without asking, he jammed the smaller one onto Mary's finger. It stung sharply and she let out a cry of pain.

"Yes, yes, it hurts a bit…that's because the ring is literally binding to your flesh. You'll never lose it that way!" the crooked priest chuckled.

Jaegar took his ring with no reaction.

"Now…there's the simple matter of the vows and the contract. Jaegar, I know your answer already. But…Mary! What do you say? Do you take this man to be your husband?"

The congregation members had stopped their various forms of debauchery and were now listening with interest. All around her, the males and even some of the females were showing some form of arousal. It made her want to vomit.

"I do," she choked out.

"Now you just have to sign here. Take this pen."

He handed her a blood red quill.

"There isn't any ink," she protested.

"Don't worry about _that_, just sign!"

She touched the paper with the sharp quill tip and a sharp pain suddenly radiated through her whole hand. It was as if she'd touched broken glass.

"Keep going," the preacher said impatiently.

Mary sighed and gathered up her strength and courage. She quickly signed the rest of her name and dropped the quill. Her injured hand was bleeding again, the wounds torn open and raw.

_Blood…I just signed my name in my blood…_

"Good. I know pronounce you man and wife," the preacher said, satisfied. He popped the pen in his mouth and sucked out the extra blood.

Jaegar lifted her chin and gave her a peck on the lips. The congregation booed in protest because they'd been hoping for a show. He gave them a scorching look and they went back to their own business.

"You may go home now, but you must consummate the marriage before she'll be protected," the preacher called after them.

_Ugh…._Mary thought, her stomach rolling.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: This chapter's kind of graphic, so if you're not into steamy stuff, skip to the next one, okay?

She felt herself go somewhat numb as he led her back to the house. At first, she had hope that nothing would happen. He bandaged up her injured hand "so that the demons outside would not be tempted" by the smell of her fresh blood. Her hope was short-lived, however, when he steered her upstairs.

"No," she pleaded, struggling against him, "we're married. Isn't that enough? I don't want to!"

"You have no choice," he breathed in her ear, "you are mine now. Do you know what it's like to go twenty-something years without?"

She couldn't say she had ever gone without it before. In fact, she was so good at getting her way that she'd had no shortage of lovers over the year. Before she had time to move again, he picked her up and carried her up the rest of the stairs. She struggled and fought against him, but her blows didn't seem to affect him. He unceremoniously tossed her on the bed and locked the door behind him. She scrambled up and tried to get out, but the door wouldn't unlock for her.

Her heart thundered in her chest. It wasn't a very big room; she was trapped.

"Enough," Jaegar said firmly, peeling her hands off the door. He didn't intend to, but his fingers poked one of the injured spots and she gasped in pain. She began to cry as he dragged her towards the bed. She wasn't crying because she was scared, however, she was crying because she was mad. Jaegar knew that and merely chuckled.

"I always have enjoyed the ones that fight me," he said, stripping away the leather armor, "it makes it much more interesting."

She tried again to get loose, but he didn't seem to care. She couldn't get out. He continued to strip while she cursed and yelled and banged her hands on the door. When he at last was completely naked, he retrieved her for the third time and placed her back on the bed.

He looked exactly like she pictured him; he had extremely broad shoulders and was hard and muscular all over. He actually looked larger without all the dark armor concealing his pale skin. The muscles rolled beneath the pale grayish-tinted flesh. Everything about him seemed to yell out "powerful". She refused to let herself feel weak next to him, but it was difficult. He was easily twice her size. With the unnaturally blue eyes that glowed softly in the dark and the sharp teeth (that were now grinning at her), he seemed more like a mythological story or the subject of a nightmare than anything that had once been human.

He bent down and slammed his lips into hers. The wound he had created earlier broke open and he licked away the blood. The blood seemed to arouse him more than anything else; she felt him tense and his breath became ragged. His hands were rough and careless with no sensuality to be felt. If this had been a situation of her choosing, she might have enjoyed it. He rolled on top of her, pressing his hard, muscular body into her soft curvy feminine one. It was like being crushed by a giant living stone.

Somewhere in the background, she heard something rip. Then, she discovered something else rather unpleasant. Two things, in fact: first, he was freezing. His skin was like ice! The second was that the wound in his side made a nasty squishing sound if he moved wrong. Mary felt her stomach turn again. She wondered what would happen if she threw up. Then again, it might just make things worse.

She cringed when the rest of the dress came loose and left her completely exposed. The undergarments might as well have not been there; Jaegar yanked them off with such force that they offered no shelter. He forced her legs apart. She would have bit her lip to keep from screaming if his mouth hadn't been sealed over hers.

The penetration itself was painful. There was an awful tearing sensation as if this were her first time. No one in Sleepy Hollow had been this well-endowed, she was sure of it. He was thrusting with such force that each time he pushed in, a white-hot pain would shoot through her body. It didn't help her stomachache at all. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut as tears began to well out. Jaegar chuckled in her ear and did not slow his pace.

It seemed as if it took forever for the dead German soldier to reach his peak. When he did, the thrusts temporarily became more abusive. She felt his whole body tighten as his paranormal seed spilled into her. She wondered how on earth he could be sweating when he was as cold as ice. Eventually, he withdrew from her. After laying there to rest for a moment, he got up and left Mary alone on the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She felt cold all over. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd ever been taken by a man, but she had never been taken with such brutal force before. The burning pain reminded her that this had been very close to a rape. She rolled over and sobbed her heart out into the pillow. She beat it with her fist when she realized that it smelled like her new husband.

The sound of trickling water from the next room made her head raise. A bath…yes, a bath! She'd be all right if she just had a bath!

Staggering to her feet, she cautiously made her way across the floor. Her womanhood was not the only place she hurt; though there were no bruises or welts on her flesh, she felt bruised inside. He had handled her quite roughly. Part of her was insulted that he had not treat her like a lady. She opened the door to see Jaegar sitting in what looked like a giant metal washtub. It was big enough that he sat comfortably in it and leaned his back against the side. A cluster of the flaming clouds outside was casting an eerie light on him through the window.

"Does it not bother you that someone could see you?" she asked irritably. He leaned back further, eyes closed. His wild dark hair was soaked and dripping.

_ Ptt. Ptt. Ptt. Ptt._ A small puddle was forming on the wooden floor from the raven-black strands.

"Not in the slightest," was his smug reply.

A silence passed between them. She watched the curls of steam rise up from his pale, corpse-like flesh. If he'd been alive, he might not have been so repulsive to her.

If he'd been alive, she wouldn't even be in this mess. Right?

"Is something bothering you?"

There was a hint of sarcasm in that question, for her bare foot was tapping impatiently against the floor.

"I don't appreciate being treated like a common whore," she snapped.

Jaegar leaned forward, his arms folded neatly on the edge of the tub. He looked into her eyes with his piercing blue ones.

"I do not know what you're talking about," he said.

"You just …..and you…..and then you just leave!"

Her frustration and lack of words amused him and he chuckled.

"I hate to disappoint you, Mein Liebe, but you are exactly that. How many were there before me? Ten? Twenty?"

She was halfway across the room before she realized she was still completely nude. Snatching a towel from a nearby chair, she quickly wrapped it around herself. Jaegar's amused laughter sounded harsh and it made her queasy.

"Stop laughing! I don't see what's so damn funny!" she yelled. She was getting angrier because the tears were very near the surface.

To his credit, Jaegar did stop laughing. He still smiled, though. Grabbing another towel, he started to dry himself up. The water in the tub vanished suddenly as if it were never there.

"I want a bath and I want some decent clothes!" she snapped. He glanced up at her while pointedly drying off his nether regions.

"Sit in the tub and the water will come," he told her, "as for a dress, I cannot help you."

"You can't be serious!"

"What do I look like, a seamstress? Make do with what you have."

She stomped over to him. With one finger poking into his chest, her eyes blazed hotly with anger.

"What kind of a man gets married and doesn't make provisions for his wife?" she asked hotly.

"The same kind who was being controlled by the same woman who literally stole his head," Jaegar answered coolly, "this is your problem, not mine. You find a way to solve it."

He swatted her hand away and exited the room.

Mary locked the door behind her. Once she was sure he was gone, she let the tears flow again. Unwrapping the towel, she sat down in the tub. Immediately, the water beaded on the walls and trickled down into the bottom as if condensing. Within seconds, the tub was full to the perfect temperature.

"I hate him! I hate him so much! Why did I agree to this?! Why?" she wailed. She was unaware that Jaegar was standing just outside the door.

When she emerged, she wandered through the house. It was simple but well-kept and not decaying or full of holes like the church. Still wrapped in a towel, she searched for anything that could be considered clothing. There was no luck and she was forced to put her "wedding dress" back on. She couldn't seem to find Jaegar, either. Sighing, she began to search the kitchen for something to eat. The cupboards were bare. Feeling hopelessly lost, she sat down at the table and listened to her stomach roar.

_Something is troubling you,_ Daredevil commented as Jaegar approached the stables.

"Yes," Jaegar agreed, sitting down on a bale of hay.

_Things are not going well between you and your witch?_

"They are not," Jaegar admitted, "I'm beginning to think I have made a mistake."

_You've shown her far more kindness than she has to you,_ Daredevil said, giving his master a reassuring nudge.

"I don't know what to do," Jaegar sighed, "she is irritating me already.

_It's just the beginning,_ Daredevil reminded him, _it's never easy to begin with, or so I've heard._

"Apparently, loneliness causes stupidity," Jaegar muttered, "I should never have left Hesse—_never._"

_I was here for you,_ Daredevil reminded him.

"I know. I do not mean to sound ungrateful to you. You stayed with me when you had a chance to leave. You could have gone on to your reward."

_I know I am not the same as having a human mate. I never knew your first woman. You make her sound very nice._

"Mary will never be an Elsa," Jaegar agreed, "but first things first. I need to take care of a few things."

Mary jolted awake when she heard the door open. She had fallen asleep with her head on the table and now her neck and arms were sore and stiff. Jaegar came in first followed by a homely little goblin-like creature that scarcely reached her shoulders. She guessed the creature was female by the shape of her figure, though she couldn't be certain.

"This is her, isn't it? She's a beauty…way to dash my hopes, Jaegar!"

Jaegar smiled. It appeared that the two were friends. Mary shied away from the little creature when she came closer.

"Hello, my dear! My name is Marsha!"

Marsha's voice was high-pitched and sharp and unnecessarily loud. Her little square spectacles were sliding around on her pudgy squashed-tomato shaped nose and her big ears dwarfed her round little head. She leaned heavily on a roughly carved wooden cane.

"I brought you a few things that might make you more comfortable," Marsha said, placing a wrapped bundle in her lap.

Reluctantly, Mary opened the package. The first thing she pulled out was a dress. It was very old-fashioned, but it was clean and didn't appear to have any holes in it (or blood stains). Under that were a few personal grooming items and a pair of shoes to go with the dress.

"Thank you," Mary said gratefully, "I'll just take them upstairs."

She gathered the things up and carried them off. Marsha retrieved the basket she had placed on the table and began laying the contents out on the counter.

"You'll have to keep more food on hand," Marsha reminded Jaegar, "remember, humans eat two or three times a day at minimum. She'll get weak easily here if she's not cared for properly."

"I know," Jaegar said reluctantly.

"Does she know anything about you besides your name and the small part of your life from Sleepy Hollow?" Marsha asked, beginning to chop up some vegetables.

"I have not told her. We have been married less than a day, remember?"

"You need to tell her."

"I cannot…she said with her own lips that she hates me. I don't think she meant for me to hear, but I did."

Marsha started the water boiling for the stew. She and Jaegar sat together at the table. In a motherly gesture, she placed her small hand over his.

"Sweetie, I know it's hard, but I think everything happens for a reason. I didn't believe while I was alive, but I know that there's a God. People make mistakes. It's time to start over."

"You and my horse are the only beings to ever be kind to me. Why are you here, anyway?" he asked.

"Lust, vanity, pride, selfishness…I'm sure I've done many more things, but those were the biggest ones. I used to be beautiful in my mortal years," Marsha said, looking at him with her big green eyes, "but now…well, I am condemned to an eternity of being ugly. I now am a slave to others because I refused to do kindness to them in real life. You were kind to me the day you saved me from that backwards church…isn't it funny how you never think you'll have friends again and you always find one?"

The water was boiling now. Marsha began to add the ingredients to the stew. Jaegar, who was not accustomed to or comfortable with sharing his feelings, sat in silence. Marsha did not take offense to his lack of response. Instead, she gave him a reassuring smile and began to stir with a large wooden spoon.

Mary stood on the stairs unsure of whether to stay or go. She was hoping they would talk more, but it seemed unlikely. She sat there for a little while and waited.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The smell of the cooking stew finally got to Mary. Her stomach was hurting from being hungry; she wondered what time it was. How _did_ one keep track of time in Hell anyway?

She was never so grateful to get dinner in her life. Mary wasn't much of a cook; she was surprised she'd kept herself and her sister alive all those years ago. Pretty much everything she had ever cooked was either underdone or burned to a crisp. The idea of Jaegar knowing how to cook made her want to laugh—he didn't look like the cooking type to her. As soon as she sat down, Marsha's knobby, misshapen hands pushed a ceramic bowl towards her. Without hesitation, she dug in.

Jaegar didn't seem to have much of an appetite. He seemed to be eating awfully slow.

Marsha, of course, wanted everyone happy. She was annoyingly chipper and Mary wanted to punt her across the room.

"So, Mary….you're very lucky to have a man like Jaegar," Marsha prodded.

"Then why didn't _you_ marry him?"

Jaegar actually flinched and Mary saw his eyes go cold. His hand gripped his spoon a little harder, but he was keeping his emotions in check so far. It made her feel so much better to know that she'd struck a nerve.

"How did you two meet?" Marsha pretended to be oblivious to her hostility.

"It's a long story," Mary muttered.

"Jaegar and I didn't meet until after we both…moved here," Marsha said uneasily, "he's the best and only friend I've got."

"That's a surprise," Mary said sarcastically.

"He saved me from a pack of demon dogs. I could have never fought them off myself."

"I don't think they would have done you _that_ much harm."

Marsha had finally had enough of Mary's hostility. She placed her bowl in the wash basin and walked over to Jaegar.

"I really should get going…good luck to you both!"

She hugged the large man affectionately and walked out quickly. As soon as the door was closed, Jaegar drummed his fingers on the table impatiently.

"What?" Mary asked.

"Was that _really_ necessary? Or do you always repay kindness with bitterness and betrayal?" Jaegar growled.

"You're…_you._ Of course I didn't expect you to have any friends."

It was the last straw. Jaegar stood up and walked over to her. Grabbing her by the front of the dress, he pulled her up until she was within kissing distance of him.

"I could care less what you think of me," he said, voice dangerously quiet, "but you will suffer if you are mean to Marsha. Understand?"

She nodded slowly.

"I will not kill you, Mary Van Tassel, but I can make you wish you were dead in so many different ways that I cannot name them all. Do not think for a moment that I won't. Now get out of my sight!"

He released her and she ran away. He sat back down, sighing.

_There has to be a way…._


	6. Chapter 6

After the Hellhound incident, it seemed that Mary and Jaegar had settled into an uneasy truce. They spoke to each other in strained civilized tones, but the tension still remained. Marsha still brought them food but she didn't say much to Mary. Mary also noticed that Jaegar was spending more and more time away from home. She spent her days extraordinarily bored, but she was afraid to say anything. One day seemed to blend right into another. She noticed that she hadn't been feeling well for quite some time, but she attributed that to the stress and the boredom.

Jaegar had called to her one day and she was coming down the stairs. An odd dizzy spell struck and she tumbled headlong down them. Jaegar had caught her just before she hit the floor and carried her to the couch. Marsha's big face emerged through her blurred vision.

"She needs to go back to the surface for a while," Marsha informed him, "this place wasn't meant for the living. She needs sunlight and fresh air."

Mary had recovered, but it wasn't long before she started having those dizzy spells more and more often. Jaegar reluctantly saddled Daredevil one day and lifted her up before getting on himself. She was so weak that she could hardly stay in the saddle even with Jaegar's help. Her eyes were fixed in a blank stare as they ascended up through the portal.

The rush of cold air hit Mary in the face and she seemed to revive. It was a very chilly morning, but the sun was shining. How long had it been? Her eyes strained in the strong light. The first things that she saw were her own hands; she was surprised at how pale they were. She looked up at Jaegar and he appeared even more corpselike than ever.

"You must promise me you won't run away," he cautioned her.

"I won't run away."

He eased her down off of Daredevil.

"Stay here. I will be back in a moment.

He nudged Daredevil into a trot and the two of them retreated into the distance. Mary sank down onto the bed of dried leaves. The good, cold air slid as smooth as mercury in and out of her lungs. She could smell damp earth and trees but no sulfur, which was a blessing all on its own. She guessed it was early spring; flowers were budding amidst their shelters of fallen leaves. She was so used to the sweat-inducing heat that the cold made her shiver uncontrollably. It still felt good.

Jaegar returned about half an hour later. He was vaguely surprised to see her still sitting where he'd put her. What puzzled him even more was when she went to him and held her arms out like a child waiting to be picked up. He swung her into the saddle, just noticing that she was much too light.

"Your house is empty," he informed her, "you may stay there for a while."

It was strange to see her house. It wasn't in too much of a state of disrepair, but there were some small things that needed to be fixed. Ichabod and Katrina were nowhere in sight.

"Where are they?" Mary asked, more to herself than Jaegar. He answered her question anyway.

"Gone. They are living in New York," he explained, "I asked someone on the way back."

"You mean no one recognized you?"

"I suppose not. I had a few stare at my armor, but not for long. They did not seem fearful, only nervous."

Mary slowly unlocked the door with the key she'd held in her pocket. It felt so strange to do such a mundane gesture; she thought she'd never see this house again. Convinced that she wouldn't run, Jaegar led Daredevil to the stables and stripped away the saddle and bridle. When he returned, he found Mary in the garden. Though it was choked with weeds, a few vegetables had survived the invasion. There was just enough to make a simple stew. He could already tell that being here on the earth's surface had made a difference; there was the slightest bit more of color in her lips and her eyes didn't look so empty. He helped her carry the large basket inside and they placed it on the kitchen counter. The stew didn't take long to prepare and both ate until they were beyond stuffed. Mary hadn't felt this hungry in weeks. The heat of the fireplace felt good when there was cold to balance it out.

"Feeling better?" Jaegar asked.

"Yes," she answered honestly, "I didn't fall today."

She looked at his face lit by the flickering fire. It was twilight outside and the world was drenched in soft blue light. To her vague surprise, he actually seemed concerned about her.

The strangest little tug pulled at her heartstrings. She rose from her chair and eased herself into his lap.

She wasn't heavy at all, but the gesture caught Jaegar off-guard. He tensed a little bit and had to wrap both arms around her to keep her from sliding off. Her head rested against his shoulder. It didn't matter so much that he was icy cold to the touch; the warmth from the fire counteracted it.

"Thank you," she said in his ear.

No one could have been more stunned than the Hessian. In all the years that he'd known her (yes, he still watched her though she couldn't see him), he hadn't once seen her express gratitude. Maybe being steeped in the fires of Hell itself had softened her somewhat. He was about to say something when she yawned.

"Tired?"

Rather than a growl or a bark, it came out as a sensuous whisper. Who knew that the harshly accented voice could have a softness to it?

"Very," she answered truthfully.

He rose from the chair without much difficulty, still holding her. Unlike the first time he'd carried her up the stairs, he didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. He seemed to know which room had been hers. Everything seemed fairly intact and all the sheets and blankets were still on the bed. He set her down and she retrieved her favorite nightgown from the closet. He leaned against the doorway and watched her undress but she didn't reprimand him. Once the soft petal pink fabric was pulled over her, she turned to him.

"You're not planning on sleeping in that armor, are you?"

Surprised, he began to unfasten it. She sat down at the dressing table and took her hair out of the haphazard bun she'd been wearing it in. The silky ashen-blonde strands fell like a curtain across her back. It was long enough to almost reach her waist. At first, there were many snarls and tangles. It took her a long time, but she worked all the tangles loose.

By the time she was done, Jaegar was undressed as well. They slid into the big bed together. Though this bed was much bigger than the one in Jaegar's house, she felt herself gravitating towards him more. He didn't object at all and was still adjusting to the alien feeling of being cuddled when her lips grazed his.

Knowing that her health was fragile at the moment, he was trying to be gentle. He could hear her heart struggling to meet the demands of her suddenly heated blood and made a conscious effort to pull away.

"What's the matter with you? When you brought me home, you were all over me," she protested, the slightest hint of anger rising in her voice.

"You are still very weak," he told her, "your heartbeat is off its rhythm. I don't want you to overexert yourself."

Though she was a woman who took everything personally, it was hard to argue with someone who seemed genuinely concerned about your health. Mary bit her lip and nodded, somewhat embarrassed. He felt the blood rush to her cheeks and kissed each one.

"I won't forget this," he said lustily, "and I look forward to it."

He felt her smile against his shoulder and his conscience was appeased for the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was strange to fall asleep here on the earth's surface where the air was clean and cool. It felt strange to feel the wind on her face. Another sound startled her sometime during the early morning: there was a rhythmic pattering on the roof.

Shortly after she became aware of the sound, she felt Jaegar jolt awake next to her. It was pitch-black and hard to see anything.

"It's all right," she said, her voice filled with wonder, "it's only the rain."

_Rain…_

"It has been so long," he said, "I have forgotten what the rain sounds like…the last time I ever heard the rain was after I arrived here."

They listened to the water beating against the glass.

"Of course, we all complained about it then," he said, more to himself than her, "we hated the mud, we hated the cold, and we hated the wetness. After my first days in Hell, I found myself wishing for rain so strongly I could almost feel it on my skin."

Her warm hand found his cool one by touch.

"What else…did you miss?"

"There are so many. I missed sunlight. I missed seasons. I missed _change._ The only thing that ever changes in Hell is that there are more people each day and I see more of them being punished. I miss my own heartbeat. I missed…_Leah._"

He breathed the name as if it were a cool breath of fresh air after being in a stale, stuffy house for ages.

"Who's Leah?"

She felt him stiffen slightly. A breeze passing by scattered the raindrops outside.

"Leah was my wife, my treasure. It was unfortunate that I never knew that as long as I drew a breath. We were not forced to get married, but we were pressured by our families. I did what was expected of me at the time; I worked as a butcher in Hesse, saved the money, then half-heartedly asked if she would marry me. She accepted, though she always wondered why. She knew I did not love her, but she was loyal to me. She defended me no matter what ridiculous thing I had done. I came home one night and was very drunk. After having chased after the barmaid and having no success, I took her to my bed instead. I can't remember this, but I must have hurt her very badly; there were bruises and blood on her the next day. She never complained and said it was not my fault. I never believed her."

Mary felt the pressure of his fingers tighten ever so slightly around her hand.

"She became pregnant and there were complications. I found a part of myself wishing our child would just die and get it over with. The doctor charged us too much and we were in debt when the war broke out. I heard from several of my friends that they were hiring themselves out as mercenaries to the British; their colonies had turned on them and they could not regain control by themselves. They paid very well. I was so frustrated with our debts and with Leah's health that I ordered her to stay with her sister while I was gone. Leah begged me to stay, but I told her it was her fault for our debts and this was the only way. The truth was that I wanted an excuse to leave and I took it. As usual, she never blamed me and kissed me very tenderly when I left with my father's armor and sword. I knew nothing about fighting other than the fights at the pubs when we were all drunk. It surprised me how quickly I learned. I was used to killing; killing humans was no different than slaughtering an animal to me. I was supposed to be home by the time Leah gave birth and I sent the money as often as I could. I found that I missed her after a while and I wrote letters. My heart was just beginning to soften towards her and our child when the worst battle came."

Mary closed her eyes and let the image form in her mind. She remembered Jaegar through the eyes of a child; his frightening sharp teeth, his sharp blue eyes, and his wild hair. He himself had seemed to be more of an animal than anyone she'd known. She had never thought about him as being the slightest bit human. She had never been able to picture him as having a name let alone a family, a home, or a previous job.

"My horse was shot out from under me and I knew I was in trouble. Then there were two little girls…I thought I was going to get out. Then…"

Guilt washed over Mary. She had not killed Jaegar, but she had directly contributed to his death which was almost as bad.

"I knew I would never see them again," Jaegar said, "I still had her last letter somewhere on me, but the fires of Hell burned it away. She said she was sure it was a son. I still believe it was a son. He is probably grown now with his own children."

The sky was beginning to lighten now to iron-gray. They could see each other now, though Mary did not dare to look into his eyes. All at once, she was ashamed. The first person she had ever killed had been killed by snapping a stick. Had her life ever contained any positive influence on the world at all?

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

She felt him drawn in a deep breath. It was unneeded, but the gesture stood out to her.

"You were only a child," he reminded her, "you knew nothing."

"I stayed and watched," she said, "I saw your blood spill and it made me feel better."

The thought made her shudder slightly.

"It is because you did not have to suffer alone," he said, reading her thoughts almost word for word, "I know poverty when I see it. I could hear your stomachs growling and I could see how loose your dresses were. I could hear you walking around above the surface where my shallow grave was. I could hear each thing you said to me."

"The ramblings of a silly little girl," Mary muttered, "I don't even know what made you think I was listening. I thought death was death and that was it."

"I resented you for the longest time," he admitted, "and sometimes you're no pleasure as a wife either, but I was ultimately the reason for my being in Hell. Regardless of what I would have done after the war, I might not have changed. I cannot change. Even now, the fire calls to me."

She held him tightly as if she could keep the flaming fingers from snatching him away. He was her only security now, the only thing in the world that would protect her.

"We don't have to go back to Hell," she told him, "_ever._ We're up here now, aren't we?"

He rubbed her back in little circles.

"I wish it were that easy," he said, sounding vaguely surprised at her conviction, "but I do not have a choice. Sooner or later, I will have to return."

"But you don't have to stay gone, right?"

"Don't worry about that. Rest. It is still early."

He was surprised she obeyed. He felt her head move a little as she situated herself. Her eyes closed.

_He's right—it's too complicated for now…_

Jaegar listened to the wet sound of her heartbeat and the blood flowing through her veins. She was bitter, yet there was still so much life in her. He estimated her to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She was just in her prime of life and she was married to a walking corpse. Had he done the wrong thing?

The sun was out, but the clouds still mostly obscured it. The wet gray light poured across the room. He turned his head away from it, preferring to look at the shadows. They, at least, were familiar.


	8. Chapter 8

When Jaegar left the bed, Mary was still sleeping soundly. He shifted her over gently and made sure to smooth the covers back over her. She had lost weight, he noticed, and was as thin and pale as a plant kept in the dark. Her lips had regained some rosiness, however, and her cheeks didn't look quite as thin and sharp. He dressed himself and paused in the doorway. The armor, he supposed, wasn't necessary at the moment. His mind searched for something to do.

They had plenty of vegetables and flour, but she wouldn't get much stronger on that. They would have to have meat and the only option was to go hunting. After rifling through some drawers in the next room, he found an abandoned notebook and a stub of a charcoal stick. In a scrawling, childish hand that was very out of practice with writing, he scribbled a quick note to Mary and left it on the pillow beside her. He had only registered that it was one of Ichabod's notebooks as he went to the woods.

_Yes, I remember him…I would have never stopped being a pawn if it weren't for him,_ Jaegar thought, _I'm glad I didn't have to kill either one of them._

As he walked towards the woods, a wind came along and blew some leaves past him. He pictured Ichabod, Katrina, and the orphaned young Masbeth in their big city home. Katrina's belly was probably rounded with child by now. A wave of resentment rose up in him for deprivation of that in his own life but he pushed it away.

The hunt didn't yield much; he did bring back two rabbits. By the time Mary was up and dressed, he had already skinned them and carved up the meat. It was very tender when roasted and he was pleased to see that she had an appetite. Upon noticing Jaegar's troubled expression, she stopped eating and frowned.

"What's the matter?" Mary asked.

"I will have to leave soon," he said reluctantly, "I feel the flames calling to me."

"You're not going anywhere!" she snapped.

"I do not have a choice," he said sullenly, "there will be trouble if I don't."

"What kind of trouble?"

"The kind that could kill you. I already have too much blood on my hands."

"But—"

His pale finger against her lips silenced her.

"I will not stay gone long if I can help it. You must promise me that you will stay out of trouble. Do not cast any spells and do not draw any attention to yourself. My scent on you is wearing thin."

"But—"

"You are still too weak. Now stop arguing. I will make sure you have enough food until you are well enough to go into town."

She watched his retreating back and pushed back her half-empty plate. A strange tug pulled on her insides that she couldn't recall feeling before. She didn't want him to go.

Jaegar was gone almost until sundown. She had tidied up the kitchen as best as she could and had his dinner waiting. She was also wearing a clean dress and had cleaned herself up for him. His grateful smile told her that he'd noticed all of those things. They ate in silence, then he pulled her into his lap.

"What if I have to leave? How will you find me?" she asked.

"I will hear it from your thoughts where you are and I will follow you. If nothing else, I can smell you."

"Smell me?"

He chuckled a little.

"You smell very good. Don't worry about it."

He hugged her and held her there close to him. Her green-blue eyes were pooling with tears and he hoped that she wouldn't cry.

"Take me with you," she begged, "I don't care if I get attacked by a thousand Hellhounds."

"You can't stay," he sighed, "you won't survive it. You feel better now, but it will be harder for you each time you descend. You need clean water and good food and sunlight. I cannot give you any of those things when you're down there. Don't make me lose another one, Mary."

She savored the way he said her name. She closed her eyes and the tears leaked out.

"Don't," he begged.

For his sake, she composed herself and gazed into his electric blue eyes.

"I have to go now," he said quietly.

She reluctantly pried herself off of his lap and accompanied him to the stables. Daredevil was already tacked up and was snorting impatiently. He pawed at the stale straw as Jaegar unlatched the stall door. His voice was low and affectionate as he spoke to the impatient animal in German. Mary couldn't understand him, but she knew a term of endearment when she heard one. Daredevil surged out of the stall and circled the two of them like a child who had been in the house all day and wanted to play outside. Jaegar pressed his lips to Mary's in an almost chaste kiss before mounting the horse. She followed him all the way to the Western Woods though she felt weak and sweaty after the journey. He didn't tell her to stay home because he knew he'd be wasting his breath. The tree eagerly opened its roots like a blood-drenched mouth ready to swallow them up.

"I'm sorry," were the last words she heard him say before the tree closed again.

Mary slowly made her way home. She suddenly felt very small under the black sky with the lonely three-quarter moon. It almost resembled a cat's eye.

She sat by the fire until the pale light of dawn colored the sky with turquoise, red, and orange. It was the first time she could remember missing someone this much.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jaegar had been gone for a month now. Determined to make do without him for now, Mary busied herself with a special project. It was fortunate that she had hidden so much gold away in case they ever needed it. One day, she bagged up most of her jewelry and her more expensive gowns and headed to town. After having gotten so thin and using some herbs to darken her blonde hair slightly, no one recognized her. The shop keeper was famous for his "back alley" trades and carried her possessions inside while she counted out the money.

It had taken several more unscrupulous connections, some all the way overseas to do what she was doing. It was difficult to trust them all; they were banded together in a tight web of deceit. However, she unburdened her conscience by remembering her intentions were good.

That's why she was so excited when she got the letter. Written in a scholarly slanting hand, she could tell that this man was very well educated.

_Mary,_

_ I received your letter approximately a week ago. It was not an easy decision to make and any sane man would have just tossed it into the fire. Your story really is quite extraordinary and I wonder if I'm destined for the asylum by answering it. However, strange things do happen sometimes and the worst that could happen is that I'll feel like an absolute fool, right?_

_ You said you know my father. Not "knew", but "know". I find this very interesting, as he died very close to my birth. Mother would never talk about him and I couldn't figure out why. When she did speak, she said she never understood him but that he must be very brave for fighting in that war. If it is possible that I could meet him, I have decided to journey to Sleepy Hollow the next chance I get. I will not be able to stay long, however, because I have a job as well as a wife and I don't like to leave her very often. I can honestly say that I'm not sure I believe in ghosts; please keep that in mind._

_Matthias._

Mary went to bed that night feeling very proud of herself. She nestled herself into the covers and daydreamed about Jaegar being reunited with his son before she drifted off to sleep. For the first time in her life, she had done something for someone else.

Down in the flaming depths of Hell, Jaegar could feel butterflies in his middle.

_I wonder what's going on up there,_ he thought to himself, _I don't remember feeling her this happy before._

He took comfort in knowing that he would be able to leave in a few days. He tried to keep the ugly and frightening thoughts out of his head while he rode out his stay.

_I hope she hasn't found another man. I hope she isn't planning something. I hope she hasn't done a lot of things…_he thought.

As much as he'd hated to admit it, he'd worried about her constantly since he had left. She was much safer on earth than she was down here, but it was difficult anyway. He wished he could be with her.

For the first time, he wondered what it would have been like if he'd been alive.

During the spell that she'd put on him, he hadn't been able to physically see her. His "vision" looked different—he could sense heat and movement. The person always appeared as a red "smudge" in his mind that he was supposed to kill. As soon as he'd sliced through their neck, the smudge would dissolve into golden sparks and disappear. He had seen Mary as a dark spot. It wasn't until he had his head back that he knew what she looked like…

He waited on the incessant pulling sensation on his middle to go away so that he could go back to her. Whatever it was, it must have been big. He only hoped he could share in her happiness, as he had none of his own.

………………………………………….

Matthias's coach arrived exactly when Mary expected it. She was waiting outside when it pulled up. The fat, squat coachman retrieved Mathias's meager one suitcase and placed it on the steps before helping Matthias out.

He was a slender thing and he didn't yet look twenty-five. His unnaturally blue eyes were an exact copy of Jaegar's. His hair was also jet black though it flopped in his face instead of standing on end. His eyes didn't contain quite the same wildness as Jaegar's.

_Must be because he's never experienced a war,_ Mary thought to herself.

"Are you Mary Van Tassel?" Matthias asked in heavily accented English.

"I am. Why don't you come inside? It looks as though it will rain any moment."

He picked his suitcase up and carried it inside.

"Tell me about my father," Matthias demanded.

"Of course," Mary said, "have a seat by the fire. It's quite a story."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Please bear with me as this is finals week and I am a senior. I can't guarantee a lot of updates this summer, but I will try my best. I'm more interested in quality than quantity. This story will continue to be updated as much as I can. As always, thank you guys for reviewing.

Chapter 10

Anyone who was in the Western Woods that night would have felt the temperature rise at least ten degrees as the heat wave rippled through the forest. There was a grotesque creaking sound as the roots unraveled at the base of the tree. Daredevil leapt eagerly through the portal and Jaegar breathed a sigh of relief. The coolness of the surrounding environment felt good. Without even being told, Daredevil headed straight for the manor.

Jaegar's eyes narrowed as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose. Fury welled up within him; it was a masculine scent. He inhaled more deeply. There was something familiar about that smell, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Mary would obviously have some explaining to do. He could also sense someone else in the house, but Mary seemed calm. After letting Daredevil loose in the stable, he ran all the way up to the house.

"Mary!" he called sharply. A rustle of skirts came from the corridor and she appeared.

"Jaegar!"

She pounced on him and hugged him fiercely.

"Mary, why do I smell another man here?" he demanded.

"You'll see in just a moment."

She smiled at his puzzled expression and led him into the kitchen.

"Matthias," she said cheerfully, "he's back."

The young man sitting by the fire looked up. Jaegar felt, rather than saw, the blood drain out of his face. Their eyes locked and Jaegar realized why he'd thought that his scent seemed familiar.

The same unnaturally bright blue eyes…it was almost like looking in a mirror. Here and there, he could see bits of Elsa as well.

It seemed so odd that he'd been nothing more than a mere bump in his mother's stomach when Jaegar had left.

"_Mein Gott…_" Matthias shuddered. Shaking very hard, he got out of his chair and ventured closer to Jaegar.

"Come into the light, please…" he said in barely a whisper. Stunned, Jaegar did as he was asked. Matthias's fingers felt abnormally hot as they traced the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse. He had cringed slightly when he felt how cold Jaegar was.

"How can this be? There is no pulse!"

Jaegar remained silent.

"I told you," Mary said gently.

She decided to give them some time alone and busied herself with straightening some things up. Eventually, she got tired and sat down in a chair in the disused dining room. She jerked awake when the clock struck midnight. Jaegar's cool fingers caressed her cheek gently.

"There you are…" he whispered, "why don't you go upstairs to bed?"

Noticing that Matthias was absent, she looked around.

"Where's your son?"

Jaegar's smile was beautifully bitter-sweet.

"He is upstairs. I showed him to the room across the hallway."

He pulled her into a strong embrace.

"I underestimated you," he whispered, "I can't believe you got him to come."

"You sounded so heartbroken when you talked about never meeting him," Mary lamented, "I wanted to at least try and make up for it."

He kissed her on the forehead.

"You did not understand…you were only a child. Stop blaming yourself."

She let him pick her up and carry her upstairs.

"You look much better since I was here last time," he commented, "your heartbeat is stronger."

Her kiss told him that something else had also grown stronger as well. He stared at her in surprise.

"You missed me?"

"Yes, I did. Every moment you were away, in fact."

She could taste joy in his next kiss. He kicked the door closed behind them and gently lay her on the bed. This time when they made love, he was confident he had done it right: there was no roughness, no rush, and no pain. He was careful to give her the attention she deserved and she melted beneath him. He was amazed at how much better it was for him as well—who knew that taking one's time could make it better? Maybe it was because he wanted her to be happy as well.

"My treasure," he breathed in her ear, "who knew that someone like you would turn my soul to sugar?"

She pressed her warm face against his icy shoulder. They were perfect complements of each other; fire and ice. Maybe this could work after all.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing she became aware of was the coolness of Jaegar's bare skin against hers. Though she was positioned so that she couldn't see his face, she could feel his penetrating blue gaze.

"Good morning," he said huskily.

"Morning," she replied sleepily.

She moved to disentangle herself and get up, but his arms stopped her. Pleasant chills resulted wherever his hands touched her. Just from her previous experiences with men, she could tell he didn't intend to let her go anytime soon.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

His sharp-toothed grin nearly made her laugh.

"Yes."

He descended on her mouth with a fierceness. When he finally allowed her to take a breath, she brushed her mussed hair out of her face.

"You are such a typical man," she muttered, "who doesn't want to stop for anything."

"If you hadn't had that privilege for twenty-something years, you wouldn't either," he teased, making her redden. She turned away from him, but his big, cold hands cupped her face. The iciness felt good against the burn of her blood.

"You will _not_ hide your face from me," he whispered, "the heat feels good to me."

She flushed deeper, remembering his taste for blood. Though he had not asked for it, she wondered what would happen next time she got a scrape. For now, he settled against letting his lips graze against her cheek in a very gentle kiss.

"Did you know," he said in her ear, "that when you flush like this that your lips turn very red?"

As if to prove his point, he pressed his against hers. No…he wouldn't let her go anytime soon.

"What about Matthias?" she asked, voice turning husky and dark as his enticing touches continued.

"What about him? He knows his way around a kitchen," Jaegar said dismissively, "we have more _important_ things to do."

It was well past noon by the time the two of them made an appearance. Matthias took one look at them and shook his head.

"You really must do something about the loose floorboards," he teased.

The two shared a rather devilish grin and Mary made the pots and pans clatter much more loudly than was necessary.

_Like father, like son,_ she thought with a sigh.

While the three of them ate at the table, Matthias and Jaegar caught up with each other. Jaegar asked a lot of questions about Elsa and Matthias answered as best as he could. There was an air of tension until they moved to another subject. They began to discuss wars and weapons, things Mary didn't know much about. She began to gather up the dishes when the subject finally entered on Jaegar's unique "condition".

"Can you visit Germany? I mean, is it possible?" Matthias asked.

Jaegar frowned.

"To be quite honest, I could not say…it depends on whether or not there is a portal to go through," he said, "I could not hope to travel by boat because I would be called back any second."

"What happens if you don't go back to Hell?"

It was the first time Matthias had spoken so bluntly.

"If I do not answer the call," Jaegar sighed, "I will be forcibly _escorted_ back. The guards would frighten a lot of people and they would do it by any means necessary. They don't care who gets in the way. I don't want any others to be at risk of an attack."

Matthias nodded, looking somewhat resentful that his father had lived his life in such a way as to deserve Hell.

"How can I tell if there's a portal nearby?" Matthias asked.

"_You_ probably could not," Jaegar said, "most can't and with good reason…but _she_ could find it easily."

Mary stopped scrubbing the pot she was holding.

"What?"

"I said that you could find a portal to Hell without any difficulty," Jaegar repeated, "because you are a witch."

She stared at him.

"But I don't know what to look for," she admitted.

That surprised Jaegar just a little bit. How could someone who _created_ a portal not be able to see it?

"Did you notice anything different when you offered your soul to the Dark King for control of me?" he asked.

Mary thought for a moment. It had happened so many years ago that her memory was fuzzy.

"I touched your sword blade and a drop of blood fell where you were buried," she explained, "but nothing else really happened…the tree grew withered and died over time and animals have a tendency to shy away from the clearing. Nothing seems to grow in that soil though it's nearly as black as ink and clearly fertile. And then there's the feeling…"

"Exactly," Jaegar said, "and the tree itself bleeds when cut due to the blood shed in that area. It makes sense that other places would have similar things happening."

"So, I have to look for a place that's got a lot of stories," Matthias began to think aloud, "a place where blood was shed, something that everyone's afraid of and they all know something horrible happened there even if they don't know what or why…"

"That sounds right," Matthias said, "then I will need the exact location on a map so that I can find my way out."

Matthias thought for a moment. Plenty of the old villages had their respective stories and myths.

"I think I know of one," he said suddenly, "the old Schroeder house…rumor has it that a band of thieves broke into it and killed the children and the husband. The wife didn't die, but came very close. She swore she would come back and avenge their deaths should the robbers ever return. The interesting thing is that only a select few of people were ever killed in the house and each one was found in the same exact place: in the fireplace with the image of a skull burned into their chest. Many people can spend a night unharmed there, but most are too scared."

"Interesting," Jaegar said, "I will have to look into it. I am not sure how I would explain my presence there, however."

"You could stay indoors during the day," Matthias said, "and be careful about touching anyone who tries to shake your hand."

"I hate to interrupt," Mary said, "but we're very low on meat."

The two men shared a knowing grin.

"Not for long. We will return at dusk," Jaegar said.

She smiled, watching them both hurry to the door. Jaegar had never had the privilege of teaching his son how to hunt, but they could both go together now. The truth was that they had enough meat to last another day, but why deprive them of their time together? Matthias would only be here a short time anyway.

Feeling open air on his face was heavenly. The horses galloped parallel to each other on the opposite sides of the path. The journey had turned into a race. Jaegar dug his heels into Daredevil's heaving sides and laughed when Matthias made a face. A tiny jet of flames had come out of Daredevil's nostrils.

"A horse that breathes fire," he muttered, "what next?"

"Don't ask," Jaegar chuckled.

"Don't worry," Matthias retorted. His horse cleared a fallen long and jolted him so hard that he nearly came out of the saddle.

"The first rule of riding," Jaegar teased, "always watch where you're going."

He grunted when a low-hanging tree branch smacked him in the face.

"The second rule of riding," Matthias shot back, "watch where your horse is going."

They shared a laugh.

The hunt was quite good. Matthias brought down a fat deer with the bow and arrows he'd found in the stable. Jaegar also brought one down and they worked together to catch a couple of rabbits and a feral chicken. Mary had already started supper for them and they both ate seconds and thirds. The exercise and the laughter had increased their appetites exponentially.

"It's a shame that Mother's gone," Matthias sighed, "I had hoped that the two of you would be together in the afterlife."

There was a pang in Jaegar's heart.

"Yes…" he said uneasily, "but a woman like Elsa deserved Heaven if there is one. I cannot complain…I have Mary."

He told Matthias the story of how he and Mary had gotten together. Mary had already gone upstairs for the night and was reading by candlelight. It had been ages since she'd gone through her old spell books.

"She sounds like quite a handful," Matthias laughed.

"She was," Jaegar said, "but things have changed. She has changed. I am grateful for her."

They talked a little more before going upstairs. Mary had fallen asleep with the book on her chest. Jaegar watched it rise and fall before carefully lifting it off and putting it on the night table. He slid into the bed beside her as carefully as he could.

He lay awake for a long time, thinking about the differences between Mary and Elsa. They were so much alike, and yet so different…they were both beautiful. Perhaps it was a good thing that Elsa was gone. At least, he comforted himself, Elsa was in a good place with no pain, no sickness, no night, and no danger. God probably held her in His arms and she probably played with the children who came to Heaven.

The mysterious being troubled him. He had never seen God himself, he had only heard of Him. Questions of all kinds ran through Jaegar's head. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming about the things he wondered.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry for that horribly long wait…no one told me that the place I've moved into has the worst Internet connection in the world. I had to work around that situation because it kept booting me offline every time I tried to do something. Hopefully it's resolved now…I can only hope that absence has made all your hearts grow fonder!

In New York…..

Constable Ichabod Crane had stood before the council many months ago. All the evidence, he had said, pointed to Mary Van Tassel and her accomplice. The accomplice had died in a fire during pursuit, he said, after he had killed Mary. He had been tired of taking orders and wanted out of the job, but she threatened to blackmail him. Sleepy Hollow would rest easy now. He had left New York a laughing stock and returned as a hero.

Young Masbeth could no longer be called "young". He attended the local school at Ichabod's request and was doing very well in his studies. Ichabod sometimes enlisted his help with his cases and the boy made a great apprentice. He would need to attend law school before he could become a full-fledged constable. He also had his eye on a pretty young thing, Florence Piper. Florence wasn't willowy and graceful, but rather stoutly built like her German family. She had a very beautiful face, however, and she was delightful company for Katrina when Ichabod must be away. Ichabod disliked leaving Katrina by herself these days, for she was round with child. The doctor said that the baby seemed to be growing nicely and the morning sickness was finally letting up. She was roughly six months into pregnancy.

The sun was going down when Ichabod reappeared in the house. Florence had cooked supper and was keeping it hot for them all. The succulent scent of roast beef, potatoes, gravy, and hot rolls made his stomach roar. He had not eaten since his paltry breakfast this morning.

Katrina greeted Ichabod at the door with a kiss and helped him out of his coat.

"The postman brought a letter for you, love. It's on the table."

"What does it say?"

He returned the kiss.

"I don't know. I didn't open it."

Ichabod sensed something menacing about the cream-colored envelope with its red wax seal. He cautiously picked it up and broke the seal before looking at the address.

"Sleepy Hollow? What could they possibly want?" he said, clearly troubled. Masbeth, Florence, and Katrina said nothing in the smothering silence. Ichabod unfolded the letter and began to read out loud.

_To Constable Ichabod Crane,_

_We were very fortunate to have you in our time of need. However, we must ask for your help one more time. There has been a series of murders here yet again. We cannot successfully draw a conclusion, but we know that several things are amiss:_

_A hunter reported a sighting of the Van Tassel widow and the Hessian recently. There is also another young man who appears to be staying at the manor. Though the three of them stay mostly near the manor, no one wants to get too close and find out why they're haunting this mansion, as we believe that Van Tassel and The Hessian are dead. The murder techniques have changed and it does not seem to bear the mark of the Hessian—the corpses were found intact, but their hearts have been removed and a strange design is burned in just above the cut. As you can tell, this is most troubling. Even more troubling than that, the victims are all children._

Ichabod's breath caught in his throat. Katrina's eyes filled with tears, one hand going protectively over the swell in her abdomen. Masbeth muttered under his breath and Florence shuddered and said "How dreadful!"

Ichabod wanted so much to stop reading, but he couldn't. It was like watching a train wreck:

_None of the victims were over thirteen and the youngest have been mere infants, some of them very difficult for the mothers to conceive in the first place. No one knows how the killer is getting to the children, for they were close by the mothers or another caregiver most of the time. Surely someone would have heard or seen something! Anyway, we will be glad to compensate you for your time and travel, as I'm sure you're very, very busy. We will pay $5000 if you will come to Sleepy Hollow at once and we will give you half of it up front. _

"There's no signature," Katrina commented.

"I can't place this handwriting, but it looks familiar," Ichabod said.

Masbeth and Florence busied themselves with setting the table. No one was really hungry now, but they must eat anyway.

"Children…what would the Hessian want with children? He got his head back…perhaps Mary is controlling him by some other means. And I wonder who the young man is," Ichabod muttered to himself as he buttered his bread.

"You're not going back there again, are you?" Katrina asked in shock.

"Well…" he hesitated, "we _could_ use the money. This little house is fine for us, but we'll need more room. And we'll need provisions for our child as well…"

He was very politely saying that babies didn't come cheap.

"Oh…"

Katrina went pale. She understood, but she loathed the idea of him going there.

"I won't go if you don't want me to," he assured her. Katrina's heart swelled with warmth. Not very many men asked their wives what they wanted, especially not when the situation concerned money.

"Promise me, Ichabod, if things get too out of hand, that you will come straight home," she demanded.

"I will," he said, placing his hand over his heart.

"I want to go with you," she said firmly.

"I'm afraid I can't let you," Ichabod said, "traveling would be very hard on you in your condition. Besides, what if the baby is born in Sleepy Hollow? We don't want our child right in harm's way."

"You can't go by yourself," Katrina objected.

"I will go," Masbeth said quickly, "it will be my first murder case."

What he really meant was that he could work more in-depth with Ichabod without the scrutiny of the others around here.

"All right then," Ichabod said, "but you're taking your school books with you. I won't have you getting behind on your studies."

"Yes, sir," Masbeth said respectfully.

"I will come as well," Florence asserted.

"Florence," Ichabod started to object, but Florence cut him off with a Look.

"Please, sir," she said, somewhat annoyed, "I simply _must _get out of my father's house for a while. He does not want Masbeth courting me and instead wants me to marry a rich old man that I do not even like, let alone love. Katrina could stay with my family while I'm gone and they would take very good care of her. My father thinks very highly of you after you recovered his stolen pocketbook."

Florence's father was a gruff and greedy man who carried all his money around on him rather than put it in a bank. He was a sitting duck most of the time and a thief had accosted him on the dark streets. Rather than shoot directly at the man, Ichabod had fired a warning shot into the air and scared the thief off. Since then, Ichabod could do no wrong in his eyes.

"….Florence," Ichabod tried again, "it is very dangerous."

"I know! That's why I _want_ to go," Florence wailed, "I'm sick of being expected to act like a dimwitted lady! I know as much about science as you do, but I must read in secret! Why…I must have twenty books hidden under the floorboards of my room!"

"It's true, sir," Masbeth said, "I bring the books to her, she hides them under her coat, and reads them in the dead of night when her father is fast asleep."

Ichabod nodded.

"All right," he gave in slowly, "but if I tell you to leave or stay somewhere, you have to listen. I don't want to be responsible for anything bad happening to you."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she tackle-hugged him.

"Oh, thank you, sir! I literally owe you my life! I will have a chance to _live,_ even if it is only for a short while!"

Ichabod smiled faintly and hoped he wasn't making a giant mistake of epic proportions.

"Start packing," he said, "we leave tomorrow. And Florence, I will walk you home. I have to talk to your father."

"All right!"

She sounded like a child at Christmastime.


	13. Chapter 13

Trying to get Florence's father to let Florence go had been difficult, but not impossible. After a lot of coaxing, he finally gave in. Ecstatic at this newfound freedom, Florence was bouncing around like a child on the morning of their trip. She was the first one into the carriage and she _talked…_It took her forever to finally settle down.

Sleepy Hollow came up all too soon. Florence was the only excited one; everyone else was feeling dread. They booked rooms at the local inn. It was after dark by then, so no one ventured out. Masbeth was the only one to go to sleep right away; Florence stayed up late reading by candlelight and Ichabod just couldn't sleep. He had grown accustomed to Katrina's presence beside him and the bed felt strange and empty without her. He hoped she was all right.

It seemed as though he had closed his eyes only for a moment, then it was morning. The sun did not rise; instead, it was gray and cold. Florence was already dressed, as was Masbeth. Ichabod wished he could just roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, he joined the others for a tasteless breakfast and a cup of coffee that was strong enough to take a grease spot off the sidewalk. Afterwards, they were off to investigate the mystery.

The three of them crept through the woods, leaving their horses tied a safe distance away. All crouching in the undergrowth, they waited.

A laugh came that chilled Ichabod's blood. So…it was true!

Lady Van Tassel was running around the corner of the house, shrieking like a little girl. A burly, large figure chased after her. True, he wore no armor, but there was no mistaking him.

"It's the Hessian!" hissed Masbeth.

"Shhh," Ichabod responded.

The creature's smile frightened him just as much as it had the last time. The sharp teeth seemed to glitter in the dull light. The eyes, unnaturally blue, followed Lady Van Tassel even when the figure stood still.

Then, as if he sensed someone nearby, he turned and scanned the woods. Neither of the three of them dared move or breathe. The Hessian never ventured towards the woods and instead turned to follow Lady Van Tassel.

"Who are you?" a sharp voice demanded. The three of them nearly jumped out of their skin. Ichabod's vision blurred when he saw the bright blue eyes staring into his. Masbeth's hand on his shoulder steadied the wobbling constable.

"Ehm…we came to inspect the manor, sir," Florence said quickly, "we heard it was for sale, but we heard someone and wanted to see if it was already occupied."

The young man raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter with him," he asked, gesturing to Ichabod.

"He has the falling sickness…epilepsy. Have you heard of it?"

"Yes, I have. Why hide in the woods like rabbits? Why not just come to the front up the road there like everybody else?"

"It's our uncle, sir," Florence sighed, "he's terribly shy. Sometimes strangers send him into swooning fits. We'll leave in just a moment."

Ichabod was beginning to steady now and his lips weren't so gray. He had to admit, he was impressed with Florence. Bringing her appeared not to be a mistake after all.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in for a moment?" the young man asked. Ichabod only just then realized that the boy had a thick German accent.

"We're sure. Thank you…come on, Uncle. We must get you to your medicine," Florence said cheerfully, hoisting him up as if he were a frail old man. Matthias watched them walk off into the woods and shook his head.

He had gone to do some hunting when his father and his "lady friend" seemed to want some time alone. On his return trip, he happened to see three people crouching in the bushes like rabbits. It rubbed him the wrong way.

"Father…the strangest thing just happened," Matthias said in German. Jaegar stopped chasing Mary and turned to face him.

Matthias explained the three people crouching in the bushes. Mary happened to come up to them as he gave the descriptions.

"It's that blasted Ichabod Crane! I don't know who the other two are, but I'd know Crane's description anywhere. Those blasted people in town must have called him down here!" Mary growled.

Jaegar did not know what to think.

"He does not seem to be a bad person," Jaegar commented, "after all, he did give me my head back."

Mary flushed with guilt.

"Perhaps he meant no harm to us. It is natural for the people who remember me to be frightened."

Jaegar said this last bit with a grin. He had been scary in mortal flesh, but as a reanimated corpse, he was even more scary. He had always taken a certain pride in making people spooked.

"I don't like it," Mary mumbled, "why couldn't that blasted man just leave us alone? I want him gone!"

"The easiest way to keep him away is to show him you're not a threat," Matthias said, "maybe he'll get tired and leave on his own. It's not like he can kill you _again._"

Jaegar shrugged. In all honesty, he would be more afraid of a goose feather than Ichabod Crane. The boy fainted at the slightest provocation. Jaegar was sure he'd lived as a opossum in his last life.

"Fine…we'll leave him alone," Mary said grudgingly, "but if he causes any trouble, I want him dead."

She stomped back into the house. Jaegar and Matthias looked at each other and their eyes both said the same thing:

_Must she always have her way?_


	14. Chapter 14

Matthias had already lost his father once and did not want it to happen again. Though he sort of liked Mary, she was a dangerous person. She wanted everything to happen on her terms. He hoped his father wouldn't be too angry with him for interfering, but he felt he had no choice. Breathing in deep, he entered the inn.

A rather hefty-looking old woman was sweeping the floor. Her gnarled, wrinkled hands gripped the broom precariously as she moved at a snail's pace.

"Pardon me, Ma'am," Matthias said politely, "do you know where I might find an Ichabod Crane?"

She raised her head and peered at him. Her eyesight must not be very good…

"Ichabod Crane is upstairs, third room on the right…or is it left? Oh, dear…I can't remember. But I know it's one of those third rooms…"

While she was still trying to figure it out, Matthias slipped away. She would likely not even realize he was gone for a while.

The other room was empty, which left the room on the right side. He tapped on the door. There was a rustling noise. He found himself looking into Ichabod's dark eyes.

"I don't wish to bother you," Matthias admitted, "but I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time, sir."

Ichabod stepped aside to let him in. Matthias noticed that his two friends were gone. He shrugged to himself and waited for Ichabod to close the door.

"I know who you are," Matthias told him, "and so does my father. The woman knew you were out there watching us."

Ichabod shuddered involuntarily.

"You're his _son?_ I wasn't aware that the H-I mean your father had ever married."

Matthias smiled faintly.

"That's because you never asked."

"I may have jumped to a conclusion or two," Ichabod admitted timidly.

"I just came to warn you," Matthias said, his tone suddenly serious, "my father and I mean no harm to you, but you might want to go back where you came from. Mary doesn't take kindly to the three of you having trespassed on their land. My father told her that he is in your debt, but I happen to know that he is also in love with her. Only time would tell which voice he would listen to. It would be easier and safer if you left Sleepy Hollow."

"How much do you know?" Ichabod couldn't help but ask.

"Frankly sir, I think I only know as much as you do…" Matthias recounted what Jaegar and Mary had told them.

"I see."

It was an awkward conversation at best. Matthias admitted that he was still having difficulties dealing with something this strange.

"I can't believe he's fallen in love with her," Ichabod admitted, "it seems so…strange…after what she did to him."

"You can say that again…I'm not very fond of it to be perfectly honest," Matthias admitted, "she has been good enough to reunite us, but I fear that someone like that cannot change so easily. For my sake and my father's, will you consider leaving?"

"I'll talk it over with them when they return."

Matthias didn't appear angry that he had been lied to and Ichabod didn't bring that up again. It was a shame that they hadn't met under different circumstances…

…...

"You're awfully quiet," Mary commented to Jaegar that night, "is something on your mind?"

Jaegar's intense blue eyes settled on her.

"I have decided that Ichabod Crane is not a threat and it would be pointless to harm him."

He braced himself for the fury she was bound to exhibit.

"He's not a threat? Do you realize what it would mean to us if he got involved again?" Mary demanded.

The spark of fury flared up inside Jaegar before he could suppress it.

"Mary, I would do a lot if asked, but I will not touch him. Even if he told someone, who would really believe him? Besides, I am in his debt."

"The question is where your loyalties really lie," Mary snarled.

It wasn't fair. She knew she'd made a mistake as soon as she'd said it, for she saw him twitch. The power was in his coiled muscles and she'd tempted him. Instead of striking her, he merely pressed her against the wall just enough to cause her discomfort.

"It would be unwise for you to give me such ultimatums," Jaegar hissed in her ear, "you forget your place. Now, either you leave Crane and his friends alone or I will have to teach you your place the hard way. I will make Hell seem like Paradise, understand?"

Her eyes hardened.

"You wouldn't," she said, thinking he was bluffing.

He smiled coldly, displaying his pointed teeth.

"I would."

…

"We can't leave," Masbeth objected, "we don't know what his intentions are. Besides, I don't think we have to fear the Hessian anymore—it's Lady Van Tassel that seems to be the problem."

Ichabod sighed. If it were just him, he wouldn't be concerned. But there were lives at stake…Masbeth, Florence, and Katrina and the baby at home…

"I wonder if I could talk to him," Ichabod commented.

Masbeth suppressed a laugh. Ichabod couldn't even see the Hessian without fainting, probably much less have a conversation with one. He'd heard crazier things, however.

…

"Why does it always have to be the woods?" Ichabod muttered to himself. Florence and Masbeth were hidden in the shadows. He paced back and forth in front of the Tree of the Dead. The Hessian's sword still stuck out of the ground, a permanent memorial of the carnage that had taken place there.

"I got your message," Matthias announced.

"And?"

The Hessian appeared behind Matthias. Ichabod gulped audibly and felt the beads of sweat appear on his forehead. Exactly how did one start a conversation with a murdering ghost? He willed himself not to faint and cautiously stepped forward. The silence seemed deafening.

"I heard that you and Lady Van Tassel were married," Ichabod said awkwardly. He hoped it didn't sound as stupid out loud as it did in his head.

"Yes. What did you want?"

At least he was willing to get to the point quickly. Ichabod shuddered at the sharpness of his voice. His accent probably had something to do with it.

"I don't mean to pry, sir…but I was wondering why you returned to Sleepy Hollow."

Jaegar studied Ichabod carefully.

"I have not killed anyone if that's what you are asking," he said coolly.

That was certainly a relief.

"A mortal cannot survive long stretches in Hell, Mr. Crane," Matthias explained diplomatically, "Mary's health was suffering, so he brought her to live in her old house. He visits her when he can."

Ichabod nodded. The bone-chilling fear had edged off just a little bit.

"I see…so, your intentions are entirely peaceful?"

"As peaceful as they can be," Jaegar returned, "in exchange for returning my head and breaking the spell, I have spared you and your friends. Be warned, though, that my Mary still holds a very large grudge. It would be best for you to leave as soon as possible. If you don't, I will not be responsible for your fate."


	15. Chapter 15

It was an ultimatum that he wasn't sure what to do with. Shrinking back slightly, Ichabod frowned.

"Forgive me for my forwardness," Elizabeth addressed the Hessian, "but you fought in one of the worst wars our country has ever had. How is it that you gained such a reputation in war but you cannot stand up to your own wife."

Clearly offended, Jaegar's hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

"Elizabeth!" Ichabod hissed warningly. Jonathan Masbeth edged closer to her. All of them expected the Hessian's moody glower to evolve into violence (or at least a good chewing out). Instead, he smiled coldly.

"You know nothing of magic, little one. Mary is a witch. It is not a matter of my being able to control her. As Herr Crane knows, she is very vindictive. I cannot watch her every second of the day. Last time, it was me slicing off heads. This time, it may be something much worse. You have been warned. I take no responsibility for your fate if you try her patience."

With that, he was gone. Ichabod sat down and tried to ignore the coldness seeping into his limbs.

"Elizabeth," he sighed, "you are going to be the death of us."

"Oh, for pity's sake, what do we live in, the dark ages? I was curious," she scolded him, "half the reason Jonathan loves me so much is because I ask questions. Right, darling?"

Masbeth blushed a deep scarlet.

"We'd best get out of this night air, sir. We don't want a chill on top of everything else."

Ichabod was more than happy to honor that request. Matthias gave them a short farewell and left.

"Lady Van Tassel for a mother-in-law…" Ichabod sighed, "I pity him ever so much."

…

Back at the house, Lady Van Tassel was simmering. It was hard to tell what boiled more; the herbs in the cauldron or her mind. She already hated Ichabod and Katrina for taking everything from her. To add insult to injury, the little spineless whelp was back. Well...she could remedy this easily enough.

The dark, sludgy substance in the cauldron already had the magic infused in it. She bottled it up and hastily cleaned up the kitchen. She didn't dare brew something in the house with Jaegar and Matthias around—they would ask too many questions.

Once the mixture was bottled, she cast another spell. A raven floated through the window, answering her call. It received the food that she offered it and carried the bottle off in its talons. She merged her mind with it to make sure it did what she wanted.

The task complete, she sat down to rest. Magic this powerful was very tiring. Neither of the men suspected anything out of the ordinary, though Jaegar seemed a little bit cool towards her. No matter, she mused. She was used to his moodiness at times.

The raven floated on the breeze. It soared in through the shutters that had not yet been closed for the evening, as the occupants weren't present. The raven placed the bottle in Ichabod's travel bag and took off again.

A few moments later, Masbeth, Elizabeth, and Ichabod entered the room. Elizabeth closed the shutters against the chill while Masbeth stoked the fire. Ichabod reached into his bag and retrieved the glass bottle.

"What's that?" Elizabeth asked.

"It's something Katrina made for me," Ichabod commented, "it's supposed to help me regain my strength after…you know."

He was still ashamed of his fainting spells. Katrina had made him some sort of potion that would help prevent recurring attacks. Unknown to him, the bottle he had grabbed was the impostor placed there by the raven. He uncorked it and took a sip. Just as promised, it warmed his insides and made him feel better.

After the three of them had eaten dinner downstairs and got ready for bed, Ichabod lay awake on his side for a long time. _Too long,_ in fact. Maybe the potion was stronger than it should have been…

As he started to drift off at some wee hour in the morning, images of Lady Van Tassel danced through his mind. Images of her mating with one of the very men she had murdered. In the dream, it was him. He knew he was going to die, but he didn't care. Lust and magic glowed in her bright eyes as she made him feel things he'd never felt before.

Ichabod sat up, heart thundering. Face reddened, he glanced around. Masbeth was asleep, as was Elizabeth. Thank God…he hadn't woken anyone up.

He ran a hand over his forehead. Beads of sweat had collected there and the room seemed uncomfortably warm. He shuddered and sagged back against the pillows.

_Just a dream…nothing more. I've been under a lot of stress, that's all._

Unfortunately, he dreamed it over and over again.

Lady Van Tassel smiled. She slipped from her bed. Jaegar was fast asleep, oblivious to anything. Donning her robe, she went downstairs.

She unlatched the door. She could see him coming up the road.

…

Elizabeth woke to the feeling that something wasn't right. Upon seeing Ichabod's empty bed, she cringed. Maybe he had just gone to the latrine…

When he didn't return almost twenty minutes later, she shook Masbeth awake.

"What?" he groaned, voice heavy from sleep.

"It's Mr. Crane," she said, alarmed, "he's gone."

Masbeth sat up.

"For how long?"

"I do not know. I've been waiting for at least twenty minutes. Something's wrong, Jonathan…I don't know what. For some reason, I feel as though Lady Van Tassel has something to do with it."

Masbeth didn't question her. He got dressed, shivering in the chill of the early morning. The clock downstairs chimed four. Elizabeth got dressed as well. Respectfully, they turned their backs to each other while they changed.

"Let's go."

…

Ichabod was all too willing to come to Mary when she held her arms out to him. She felt his pulse quicken when she ran her fingertips over his cheek and down his throat.

"I'm dreaming," he moaned, "you aren't real. You can't be…Katrina-"

"If it's only a dream, then you have nothing to worry about."

He didn't argue after that.

She pressed her lips to his mouth. It was odd to feel heated flesh after she'd gotten accustomed to Jaegar's body that was icy from death. Her own heart began to gallop at a faster pace. He responded timidly almost as a virgin would. The magic tugged at his mind, pulled him away from the uncertainty and the questioning.

She smiled.

Any second now…

She heard the heaviness of Jaegar's footsteps. He had come looking for her. When he saw Mary and Ichabod joined together in the floor, he froze. Mary had begun to whimper and plead seconds before, but the magic had clouded Ichabod's mind so much that he'd been unable to stop himself.

All Hell broke loose.

Furious, Jaegar tore Ichabod loose from Mary, who had worked up a convincing batch of crocodile tears. She pulled her robe over her exposed breasts and slunk off to the corner. Jaegar slammed Ichabod into the wall. One hand went to the dark-haired young man's throat and Ichabod gasped for air as the giant fingers crushed his windpipe.

"Wait!"

Matthias's voice cut through the sudden chaos. Ignoring his father's murderous expression, he sniffed the air.

"Magic," he said quietly, "I smell magic. Herr Crane has been enchanted."

Jaegar growled. He leaned in until Ichabod's shallow, ragged breath reached his nose. The strong smell of herbs was still present on his breath. He released him and Ichabod fell to the floor, gasping and coughing. Mary's concentration had wavered enough that his lucidity had returned. All three of them looked at Mary.

"You can't possibly think that-" she started to say.

"Quiet," Jaegar said, his voice dangerously icy and calm. He turned back to Matthias, who was glaring furiously at Mary.

"How do you know?" Jaegar asked him.

"I would know that smell anywhere," Matthias answered, "or were you not aware that my mother…_your wife…_was also a witch?"

Jaegar stared. He hadn't known. She had never told him.

"She was a white witch, but I know malicious magic as well. It's potent, bitter stuff. Let him go, _Stepmother._"

Mary raised her chin defiantly, but the look from Jaegar made her reconsider. Ichabod felt the magical bindings leave his mind. As his awareness increased, so did his shame and embarrassment.

"You. Out," Jaegar snapped. Ichabod didn't need a second invitation. He tore outside, quickly readjusting his skewed clothing.

Jaegar stood over Mary. He seemed to tower over her now that he was enraged.

"Well?" he asked.

She couldn't look at him. It was easy enough to figure out what her intentions had been. She'd wanted Ichabod killed. He yanked her up out of her chair.

"Let's go."

He dragged her upstairs. Unknown to her, he had a few tricks up his sleeve as well.


End file.
